


Through The Woods

by hannibalmontanabal



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibal fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:55:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibalmontanabal/pseuds/hannibalmontanabal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ragnarok-Valkyrie on tumblr prompted that when Will runs into the forest to chase after a criminal and gets lost, Hannibal finds him shivering and thusly, cannibal fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through The Woods

**_Will’s heart is pounding in his ears, almost as loudly as his footsteps through the trees. Leaves and branches crackle beneath him as he chases after the killer. His breath is staggered and he’s dripping with sweat. The stag follows closely behind; he can feel its hot breath on the back of his neck, pushing him forward. His gun is cocked, and his hands only tremble slightly._ **

 

* * *

He knew Freddie Lounds was to blame, her incriminating articles giving Will the undivided and unwanted attention of all the serial killers in the local radius. She might as well have written him a personal ad. ‘ _Likes long walks on the beach, lazy romantic afternoons, and axe murderers.’_

Up until now, the presence of Freddie Lounds had only been an irritation, no more harmful than a particularly bothersome mosquito. Blood thirsty, yes. Socializing with her left Will’s skin itching long after the encounters had ended. However, the journalist’s publications were never perceived as an actual threat. How could anyone have foreseen that Lounds’ descriptions of Will would lead to a “fan” paying Mr. Graham a personal visit?

If Freddie Lounds was a mosquito, she was the sort that carries Malaria.  

 

Will woke, startled, from a nap (you could call it that, though it was more like a half-conscious stupor) to the sound of the dogs barking and whining. Much to his surprise, his eyes fluttered open to see a tall shadowy figure in the corner of the room. He couldn’t quite make out the man’s features without his glasses, and he didn’t dare reach for them.

“Will Graham?” A nervous voice said. There was something manic in the voice’s edge, and Will’s breath caught in his throat. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to meet you. Can you.. Can you see what I see, Mr. Graham? When you close your eyes, do you see the people I’ve killed?”

Will swallowed his fear, began to rise slowly. The intruder hissed at him, and Will stayed where he was. 

“Listen.” Will said with all the authority and calm that he could muster. “Just let me put on my glasses, and we can talk.” The man appeared to hesitate, mulling the idea over. 

“Alright.” He answered finally, his voice sharp and uneven. “Al-alright. But no funny business, Mr. Graham. I don’t want to have to do anything.. rash.” Will nodded and slowly reached towards the glasses on the coffee table. When he saw the figure of the intruder relax, Will grabbed the gun from under the table and aimed it with as much precision as he could, given that he still couldn’t see straight. The killer gasped and bolted out the door, and before Will knew what he was doing, he ran swiftly after.

* * *

**_The sun will be setting soon, Will knows. He’s sure he’s seen that tree three times now, and he’s never been this far into the woods before. Still, Will pushes forward, lungs on fire. He’s slick with sweat and he knows if he stops running that he’ll succumb to panic. He’s lost. He left his glasses at home. The maniac that broke into his home long gone. The dogs, Will thinks, are probably hungry. Probably whining._ **

**_The stag appears before him in a clearing, illuminated in hazy gold by the fading sunlight. Will will stop here to collect his thoughts._ **

* * *

Will dropped to his knees where the stag had stood moments before, wiping the sweat from his face. He looked around himself, trying to recognize his surroundings. It was getting dark quickly, and Will was surely far from home. He trembled in the cold air. Now that he wasn’t running he really felt the cold as it enveloped him completely. His sweat drenched hair turning into icicles and his breath snaked out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure what to do, or where to go. Everything was so strange and he couldn’t trust himself to find his way back home. 

Will was exhausted, and for once he could maybe allow himself to fall asleep here. He curled up in the dead leaves, arms wrapped around himself to protect his tired body from the miserable cold as his eyes slowly closed. 

For once, Will didn’t have any nightmares. Didn’t dream at all. His mind black and numb. 

He couldn’t have been sleeping very long before he felt himself being lifted from the ground. His senses were invaded by warmth and the familiar smell of spicy cologne. The kind Will couldn’t afford. He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t come.

“Shhh, everything is alright, now.” Hannibal’s voice rang pleasantly in Will’s ears.

“Dr. Lecter?” Will croaked weakly through chattering teeth. Slowly, Will’s eyes opened to see that he was being carried through the darkened woods. “How did you..” His voice faltered and he tried to swallow. Tried to understand.

“What on earth were you doing out here, Will?” Hannibal asked calmly, ignoring Will’s attempt at a question. Will didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His head was pounding violently and it felt like his skull would crack open at any moment. 

A frigid wind picked up and swirled around them, and Will burrowed his head into Hannibal’s chest with a broken whimper. He thought he heard Hannibal laugh, but it was hard to tell over the howling of the wind. 

* * *

_**The doctor doesn’t ask any more questions for once, and Will is grateful. It isn’t long before they’re back inside Will’s home.** _

_**Hannibal had wrapped him up in a tattered blanket and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a cup of tea. Will stares blankly as he sips the hot liquid. It burns his tongue, but he can’t find it in himself to care.** _

_**They sit in comfortable silence for a while before Hannibal, without explanation, stands and walks to Will. Wraps his arms around him and presses a kiss into Will’s matted hair. It’s then that Will crumbles, clinging to the doctor with everything he has, and let’s go. He sobs dryly and Hannibal pets his hair, hums an unfamiliar song.** _

_**Will explains everything and the doctor simply listens. He’s not sure how, but he knows that Hannibal will take care of it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows the killer who dared enter his home will never bother him again because Hannibal wouldn’t allow it.** _

_**Hannibal stays the night. The doctor doesn’t sleep, instead watches over Will. Holds his hand and comforts him when he wakes in a cold sweat. For once, Will sleeps well.** _

* * *

 

A few days later, Hannibal invited Will for dinner. Neither had spoken about that night, and everything had returned to normal (As normal as Will’s life could be, any way). 

As Will chewed the meat, enjoying the other’s company, he had the strangest feeling. Something gnawing at the back of his mind, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“What is this?” He asked. Hannibal looked up.

“Why? Are you worried it might be someone you know?” Hannibal joked, though there was no trace of amusement on his face. “It’s rabbit. I caught it in the woods behind your house the other night.” 

Will stared down into his plate, trying to shake the sense of dread. He sighed. Nodded. Took another bite. 

 

Some questions are better left unasked, and it’s often wisest not to look the gift horse in the mouth. 

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, praise, critique, and prompts always appreciated.   
> I'm not entirely thrilled with this one.


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